Original story based on characters and material by Project Aces. The author claims no for-profit ownership over them.

OFS Kestrel
Kirwin Island, Osea
24 December 2010
1920 hrs.

Twas the night before Christmas, and on this carrier in the sea, few creatures were stirring, at least from the Navy.

A single Osean Air Defense Force pilot was typing out something on the internet browser of an old laptop in his bunk.

Red-haired, quiet and almost measly, it was only the squadron patch of a woman in a winged black helmet that revealed the extent of Second Lieutenant Hans Grimm's deadliness behind the flight stick.

Over the course of the last three months, the "Razgriz" had gained infamy among Oseans and Yuktobanians for singlehandedly spearheading the Osean invasion efforts into their Cold War rival's mainland. But only a few weeks ago they had allegedly been 'unmasked' as spies and forced to flee...after discovering that the entire war wasn't just a simple case of the Cold War finally heating up.

Since then, they were President of Osea's personal air guard, operating "blacker-than-black-ops" missions against this conspiracy. The very knowledge of these missions were limited to him, the squadron, and the staff of the tiny fleet nestled in this small Arctic refuge.

One of those select few also made his way over to Archer's bunk, sitting beside him. He looked almost generic with his close-cut black hair and tanned skin. But Blaze, as he was mostly known, was the tip of that sword, the lead Demon of Razgriz. He rarely seemed to interact with anyone outside of briefings and sorties, but this Christmas Eve, he seemed...different.

"Hey Blaze," Archer greeted, "Just got back from shore leave?"

"Yep. Got Christmas presents for everyone," he replied, slightly exhausted, "Snow and Nagase are still hanging around town. You been here all this time? The Christmas party's about to start upstairs."

"Oh, I just got back early. I'm trying to send a care package out to my brother," Hans replied. "I found a site that sends them right out to the frontlines."

The Airman's older brother landed with the Osean invasion force last month. To the best of his knowledge, he and thousands of other troops from Osea were hunkered down somewhere outside the Yuktobanian capital of Cinigrad where the blitzkrieg had turned into a quagmire.

"You think it'll get there this late?"

"I hope so, at least before his birthday next month."

Blaze smiled warmly, but noticed Grimm looked like he was about to regret sending it despite his own smile.

"...is there anything wrong?"

"No, not really," he replied, "It's not like anyone but him will know I've sent it."

"What's wrong then?" Blaze asked. "Are you worried he might be-"

"No, he's been in contact with Mom back home, at least from the mail piling up in the inbox. He's fine."

Thanks to the technology used by the nearby OFS Andromeda, they could be reasonably assured of anonymity online. Still, they were told to strictly avoid transmissions to their family members. If they could intercept enemy data streams, surely the enemy could do the same.

"I..." Grimm sighed before continuing, "I don't have the heart to tell him that he's being used."

Blaze nodded, knowing exactly what Grimm meant.

"They used us all, Hans," Blaze replied, "And then they tried to get rid of us when we did their dirty work too well."

In order to flee Sand Island, they had to work with a member of the Osean Maritime Defense Force to stage their own deaths at sea. Grimm hadn't quite gotten over the jitters he caught having to fly a tiny trainer plane through Solo Island's network of caves.

"Well yeah, but...what about him? Does he know?"

Blaze couldn't reply.

Both of them knew that soldiers on both sides continued to fight despite dropping morale and increasing discontent. But he didn't know how many of the soldiers deployed for Operation Verusean Freedom - and the Yuktobanians fighting against that - knew that a conspiracy from a third country had instigated so much bloodshed and hatred in their plan to avenge their defeat during the war 15 years ago.

"If they stay alive long enough, yeah." Blaze eventually said, "We're probably the only things standing between them and Belkan annihilation now."

Archer bit his lip. "Yeah...how did we manage to teach a whole generation to hate the world..

One word took Blaze by surprise. "Wait. We?"

"Oh shi-" Archer quickly clasped a hand over his mouth, his eyes suddenly widening. "...I should have told you..."

Blaze leaned in closer, looking around as if Grimm had triggered some kind of recording unit from the OCIA.

"Told me what?" he asked, trying to sound like he wasn't trying to interrogate the younger pilot.

Archer slumped over the keyboard, both hands on his head. "My father was a Belkan ace pilot too."

Blaze raised an eyebrow. "You mean like Pops?"

"Dad used to be in the Navy. He transferred to the Air Force just before I was born. Then he got shot down during the war. They never found his body. After they dropped the nukes, Mom took us to Osea."

Blaze was taken aback. "Oh shit... I'm so sorry," he said.

"No. It's okay," Archer replied hastily, "At least we didn't have much trouble getting citizenship being nuclear refugees and all, but Mom always wanted to take us back home before she got old."

"Is there anything left back there?"

"Mom hopes so...but I guess I just identified more with Osea since I grew up here."

"And now we're off fighting your old countrymen," Blaze replied, leaning on the doorway."

"I guess...this is what Mom 'n Dad would have wanted, you know?"

"Yeah. To know that not everyone is as vengeful as the Gray Men are."

"Mmhmm..."

"What about you, Blaze? You have family back home?"

The older pilot smirked and looked outside.

"Not really. Mine was broken. I went to the Air Force because it was better than hitting the streets with the 'gangstas.' And the Marine recruitment center was a block further down the road."

"Oh. What was the war like for you?"

"I know it sounds pretty bad but...where I grew up it was just another one of those wars that Osea sent out innocent poor kids to die for, 'specially until the nukes hit."

"Whoa. Didn't know they were that disillusioned."

"Yeah, that's the Osean Dream for you," he replied sarcastically. "Sometimes I wonder if we're really defending it from ourselves instead of some conspiracy next door."

"Don't be like that, Captain," Archer smiled, reaching out to give Blaze a pat on the shoulder. "A lot of people look up to you."

"Yeah, I guess the feeling's mutual," Blaze replied, trying his best to express sincerity, "You guys have really been my only family for the past few weeks."

"Mine too," Archer replied, "Funny how things work out. Anyway, who's that gift for?"

"Actually..." Blaze held the gift in front of him, before suddenly handing it to Archer, "it's for you."

"...for me? Uh...thanks!"

"I know it's not exactly chocolate," Blaze said before Archer finished tearing off enough of the wrapping paper to reveal a sizable bag of jerky, "But the sailors say this is Kirwin's finest stuff."

Archer laughed softly. Had he not known Blaze had gifted him this, he would have figured the gift came from an uncle of his wanting him to 'man up.'

"Merry Christmas, Hans," he said with a smile...before leaning in giving Hans a rather warm, nuzzling hug. It was the kind of hug that was more than 'familial.'

"B...Blaze!" Archer suddenly exclaimed, the laptop nearly falling out of the bunk. What was that all about?"

The lead Demon of Razgriz put a shushing finger to his mouth and smiled devilishly, almost invitingly before turning to leave to the mess hall.

The now-flushed redhead hastily returned to typing.

If only Edge knew...

Author's Note: Yeah. My slightly-late Christmas gift to you all is some implied alternative slash while you wait for more Memoirs. Enjoy!